Two Words
by Madam Oakheart
Summary: Sherlocks reation to John's speach at his grave stone. It had more of an impact then most people thought. Very light Johnlock. T for language.


Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or John but if I had the chance I'd kidnap Martin and Ben.

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Two Words

"Don't be... dead."

Those three words spoken struck a cord inside Sherlock Holmes as he watched his only friend from afar. He was on his knees in the rain. John's clothes soaked completely with the skies tears. Those drops of water masked the fact John was crying except for the fact Sherlock was the worlds only Consulting Detective.

The shaking of his shoulders and the way he clutched the dirt supporting himself proved the man was sobbing. Sherlock fought against the disgust with himself. Disgust such a funny word, little did things ever disgust him, naming a few: Mycroft, peace, sentiment, and most of all himself. Oh how much loathing he held for himself... for the simple fact he held such a fire for John.

Don't pretend to assume he loved him oh no Sherlock Holmes didn't believe in love. It was simply a bunch of neurochemicals floating around in the brain. Oh, but passion was a whole different story. Sherlock held an unbreakable bond with John Watson. Was it romantic, sexual? Yes and no.

Don't immediately come to the conclusion they're a couple. They aren't. John loves Sherlock and Sherlock has a passion for John. Not that they were aware of each others thoughts on the matter. Sherlock was not willing to die for anyone. It was a simple fact. Holmes was willing to let his only friend suffer for his life.

"What are you doing to me!" John yelled laying on the ground his jacket and trousers stained with black mud. Sherlock's attention focused on his expression, it was angry but more than that it was hurt. His brow was scrunched together, his eyes red, and fists clenched. "It's not fair, you were my hero no matter what you ever said, no matter if you claimed not to be on the side of the angels, you were! Damn it, Sherlock! Listen! Hear me... You are my best friend , that's not going to change. Even if you lied, which I know you didn't I'd still care. I was so alone, and I owe you so much! Please Sherlock if their is a single drop of compassion left in you answer my one prayer!" John rolled on his back lying over a false grave, a look of desperation dancing across his face.

There it was the disgust at himself: one reason. Sentiment. He had broken his one oath, sentiment's always on the losing side and it was. Sherlock was losing the one thing he couldn't bare to lose, John. Sentiment was going to kill him and so was John . "DON'T LEAVE ME!" John screamed at the sky slamming his fists into the ground . If it were anyone else Sherlock would have thought it to be pathetic.

But this was John. His John. The one man who never shunned, never criticized, complemented, cared, tolerated him; the irritating Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock began to shake in indecision, the last time he's gave a damn about anyone was when he was a boy. He loved his parents, that didn't save them from death. So he stopped loving, stopped with the pathetic sentiment.

How did this man bring it all out again, how'd he make him care. Sherlock had not a single clue and for once was not left with an answer. This was also the first time it had not bothered him. OK that's a lie it bothered him a little.

Making up his mind after gazing at John who was on the ground curled into a ball with his hands covering his face, he began a slow approach. John who in his anguish was oblivious to Sherlock's presence until Sherlock wrapped himself around the smaller man. It wasn't sexually it was a best friend protecting and comforting his best friend.

Turning in Sherlock's arms John turned to face his friend. John's previously desolate face, turned into one of uncontrollable joy. His lips spread and a estatic laugh bubble up his throat and out his mouth. Sherlock grinned back and placed his forehead. against Johns. Their breath mixed together as they warmed each other.

"You know I'm going to kick your ass for scaring me like that when we get up right?"

"I'm very aware."

"Don't do it again, ok." John whispered sadly.

"You have my word, John. I will never leave you forever ,do you know how boring it gets without my blogger."

"I'm sure it's dreadful."

They moved closer together both loving every moment of their companionship. John's breath evened out and Sherlock moved away. Standing up Sherlock grinned at his long needed friend a pride swelling up for the man. Taking his notebook from his pocket he wrote two words on a page and placed it in his coat pocket.

Slipping the notebook into his pants he placed the coat around John's frame. Kneeling down next to John he placed a soft kiss on the man's brow for luck. Returning to his feet he turned and walked away knowing when John awoke he'd find a note that said two words. A promise. One year.


End file.
